


Mists Of Gotham

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU, DCU (Movies), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Angst, Apparition, Astral Projection, Challenge Response, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Drama, F/M, Halloween, Holidays, M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gotham defiantly celebrates Halloween during the Occupation. Will the Bat come back to help them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Sightings

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: None  
> Spoilers: For _The Dark Knight Rises_ (2012)  
>  Original LJ Dates Of Completion: August 20, 24, September 24, 2011  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: October 11, 14, 26, 2012  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC and Warner Brothers do, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 1311 + 1230 + 1723 (Total: 4264)  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Author’s Notes: Written for my [2012 DCU Fic/Art Halloween Challenge.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/952078.html) Prompts: _Gotham City, Houses Decorated For Halloween, Black, Ghosts/Spirits/Apparitions, Astral Projection, Orange-and-Black, Black Cat, Mists/Fog, Gloves/Gauntlets, Capes/Cloaks/Robes, Candy Corn, Gold, Masks, Costumes, Jack O’Lanterns, Skeleton, Witch, Gold, Masquerade Ball/Halloween Party, Apples, Pumpkin Muffins, Moon/Moonlight, Vampires_ and also for ’s [2012 DCU Free_For_All Autumn Challenge](http://dcu-freeforall.livejournal.com/340446.html). Prompts: T12; P14: _Haunted,_ T10; P23: _Spectre,_ Special Prompt 6: _Costumes/Masks._  
>  All chapters can be found [here.](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/31948.html)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange Apparition appears in town.

_Dark night rising,_  
As the cold winds blow,  
Bright moon rising,  
As the Ancients know. 

  


**Elsa Standish**  
"Dark Night Rising"  
1859 C.E.

Clouds scudded across the face of the moon as the wind howled around the corners of the house, rattling the windowpanes. Leaves skittered down the street, whirling in wild arcs as the footsteps of a nervous Gothamite hurried down the cracked pavement.

This was Gotham’s time of year. While it acknowledged every holiday, it lived and breathed Halloween. Houses were decorated and balls and masquerades held, ranging from modest house parties to fancy glittering balls held at the finest hotels and mansions. Children eagerly planned their costumes and trick-or-treating routes.

Jim Gordon looked out the window of the modest house he shared with John Blake. They kept moving as Bane’s men were constantly on the look-out for him. As the Police Commissioner and leader of the Resistance, Jim knew that he was a prime target.

The Occupation had been in effect for three months, and people generally stayed close to their houses. Curfew had been set up and in addition, roving gangs of toughs went around stealing whatever they could lay their hands on. The dwellings of the rich had been ransacked but there was always more to pillage if they looked hard enough.

Jim was glad for the first time that his wife and children had left him. Living under this Occupation was no picnic.

The sound of pots and pans rattling in the kitchen brought a small smile to his face. His young detective was not a bad cook.

“Soup’s on!” John called cheerfully.

Jim let the curtain drop and went to the kitchen. The table was set and something was bubbling in a large pot on the stove.

“Smells good.”

“Thank you. I managed to scare up some onions, celery, and carrots. Potatoes, too. If we’re lucky that pot can last us awhile.” John bent over and took a cookie sheet out of the oven. The smell of warm garlic bread filled the kitchen.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Some bread, a little garlic powder, butter… _voila!”_

“Your scrounging abilities never cease to amaze me.”

“Call if the fruits of a misspent youth.” John grinned.

Jim felt better. John never failed to smile or attempt to find a positive spin on things.

John ladled out the stew in bowls and set them on the table. Jim sat down and tasted the stew. “Mmm, very good.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Jim smiled as he ate a piece of bread. “So, on your forage did you hear anything?”

“Just that people are planning to celebrate Halloween.”

Jim took another spoonful of stew. “I noticed the decorations were up on houses.”

“Apparently Bane and his men are fine with it. They seem to find it amusing.” 

“They would. Gotham is literally a ticking time bomb and a horror show, so why not celebrate?”

John tore off a piece of bread. “That’s not why people are doing it.”

“Oh?”

The younger man smiled. “They figure it’s a form of defiance. Halloween is Gotham’s holiday. They’ll be damned if they let Bane and his thugs ruin it.”

Jim smiled. Gothamites were made of stern stuff.

& & & & & &

In the Narrows, Cory Matthews gleefully rummaged through his burlap sack. That fancy house on Braddock Hill still had some goodies if you looked hard enough.

He felt a twinge of guilt. Those Catechism lessons were still ingrained in him. He pushed strands of lank hair out of his rheumy brown eyes. He enjoyed living with a bunch of the guys in one of the fancy houses, throwing parties and inviting women over for fun.

Cory pawed through the trinkets. Nothing high-priced in this batch but he should be able to barter this stuff for the best food available. Money was pretty useless now so people had started old-fashioned swapping. He could gift that fox Jen with this pearl necklace.

A cold gust of air swooped down the alley. He pulled the collar of his coat up. Shivering, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He jerked his head up.

From the shadows of the alley a figure garbed in black appeared, holding his arm out. Cory backed away.

“B…Batman! You’ve been gone! What you doin’ back?”

The figure was silent, still reaching for Cory, who dropped his bag and ran.

& & & & & &

Jim craved a cigarette. He’d quit smoking years ago but he could still get the urge. He took a sip of Pepsi instead.

Joe O’Hara leaned forward as his young partner, Brett Dover, gently swirled the ice in his drink. Joe ran a hand through his gray hair. “Can we use the Halloween celebration as cover?”

“We could,” John said. He tipped his chair back, munching a handful of sunflower seeds. “Masks will be allowed but only on that night.”

“Why?”

John shrugged. “Bane finds the idea amusing. Probably because of his own mask.”

Jack Kelly and Max Tolliver rounded out the group. Jack had been on the force for ten years, his handsome face marred by a scar on his left cheek, courtesy of a knife fight when he’d been a rookie patrolman.

Max was a well-muscled African-American who had been the GCPD’s boxing champion for the last three years. He stroked his mustache as he looked thoughtful. “I know a place where we can get costumes.”

“Good.” Jim finished his drink and poured another one. “We can search for the truck carrying the bomb for most of the night.”

“We should take advantage of the circumstances,” Jack said. “Expand our usual grid.”

“You’re right.” John set the chair back down. “We won’t get another chance like this.”

Joe rubbed his face. “I wish the Batman was here.”

Jim felt his stomach clench. He was worried about the Batman. He would never abandon his city to the likes of Bane, especially now that he had become active again.

_Where are you? Are you hurt? Please come back. We need you. **I** need you._

More plans were discussed as the night wore on. Finally they left, careful to go off in pairs and stick to the shadows.

Jim wandered over to the picture window in the living room. He gazed up at the sky, remembering how the Bat-Signal could cleave through the sky. He touched his fingers to the glass, his heart aching.

& & & & & &

Joe guided his partner through the streets. He was pleased to see the decorations up in defiance of the Occupation. They were out past curfew and he had to watch around them. Joe indicated an alley and they ducked into it.

Joe was glad that he had seen the Batman in action. He’d told Brett they were in for a show when the Dark Knight had resurfaced after eight years and rescued the Stock Exchange hostages, and the Bat hadn’t disappointed.

Now the Bat was missing again, which worried him. Was the man dead or injured? Bane looked like he could tear ten men apart at once. Had he taken the Batman down?

_Probably not. Wouldn’t he put the Bat’s head on a pike in Gotham Square? Lord it over us?_

Joe saw the flicker of a shadow and automatically went for the gun on his hip that was no longer there.

“Uh, Joe…” said Brett in a strained voice.

A black-clad figure was moving in the shadows and suddenly appeared in the faint light cast by the streetlight at the end of the alley.

Joe’s face split into a delighted smile. “Batman! Man, are we glad to see you!” His smile vanished as the Dark Knight didn’t speak, his face gaunt and his eyes clouded with pain. “Batman?”

The Batman reached out a hand, his lips moving soundlessly, then he melted back into the shadows and vanished.

Brett’s eyes were huge as he stared open-mouthed at Joe.

  



	2. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim learns about the Bat-Sightings.

_To see your face,_  
To hear your voice,  
Is what I yearn for. 

_Without you,  
My heart is broken._

  


**C.J. Spiller**  
"Yellow Roses  
And Other  
Love Poems" 1959 C.E.

Jim tossed and turned restlessly as he tried to sleep. The bed was comfortable enough. He’d regret leaving it when they had to move again, but he just couldn’t get to sleep. He sat up with a sigh. Where was the Bat? After years of not showing his face, or cowl, he had vanished again after reappearing for a brief time. Gotham needed him more than ever now.

_There’s something wrong._

He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, rocking slightly. The room was blurred, his glasses still on the nightstand.

_And where’s Bruce Wayne? He comes out of seclusion after eight years…just like Batman._

Jim had entertained suspicions of Bruce as Gotham’s protector. He had fallen in love with Batman years ago, suspecting that Barbara had known. He rubbed his eyes, glad that she and the kids weren’t here.

The wind rattled the windowpanes and he lay back down, pulling up the blanket. He started to drift off to sleep when a voice whispered in his ear.

“Hmm?” He sat up, still half-asleep. “Is that you, John?” 

The sound of the wind was his only answer. Yawning, he curled up under the covers, figuring he had dreamed someone calling his name.

& & & & & &

The cold bite of the wind accentuated the October day. An orange windsock with black triangles for eyes and nose and a half-moon for the mouth fluttered in the breeze from a nearby porch. A black cat watched the activities in the street with yellow eyes, its tail swishing lazily.

John hunched his shoulders against the wind as he jammed his hands into his coat pockets. He had made the drop of the day to his partner down in the tunnels and was going to meet Jim for lunch, or what they could scrounge up. If they couldn’t put together something they would have to go without.

He patted his lean stomach. He was used to that. There had been very lean meals in the orphanage at times before the Wayne Foundation had stepped in. 

John sighed. Bruce and the Bat were among the missing. He would never abandon Gotham.

_Bruce, I hope you can make it back while there’s still a Gotham left._

The wind blew and the cat’s ears perked up. Dusk was beginning to fall over Gotham.

A heavy fog began to drift in from the ocean. John turned up his collar. It would make a good cover as he went back to the house.

The fog enveloped the neighborhood, obscuring the houses as John kept his eyes and ears open. The fog muffled sounds and John suddenly heard footsteps. He couldn’t quite figure out what direction they were coming from, another trick of the fog.

He increased his pace. He could handle himself but wasn’t keen on fighting anyone when he could barely see his hand in front of his face.

The footsteps echoed eerily in the fog. They sounded close but that could just be another trick of sound. 

John unzipped his jacket. If he had to move fast, he wanted to be ready. He continued walking, the footsteps matching him almost stride-for-stride. The echo rattled his nerves but he remained calm, his fingers curled around the trigger of his gun hidden in his jacket pocket.

The spookiness was getting to him. He turned, ready to demand who was following him when a figure emerged from the fog. John’s eyes widened and he gasped, _“Batman?”_

The figure reached out his gauntleted hand, his face painfully thin and his armor torn. His tattered cape looked like a scarecrow’s, his eyes pleading with John.

“What is it? When did you get back? Where have you been?”

The fog rolled in, wisps curling over Batman’s shoulders and slowly swallowing him up. John tried to grab him but was too late.

“Batman!”

There was utter silence, John straining to hear anything. He called Batman’s name again, this time softly. When he still received no response, he hurried to his meeting with Jim and the others.

& & & & & &

“What do you mean, you saw the Batman?”

Joe’s hazel eyes pleaded with Jim. “Honest, Jim! Brett and I saw him.” He described the encounter in the alley.

Jim frowned. “Why didn’t he speak with you?”

“He tried, but no sound came out.”

Jim’s stomach tightened. “You mean he couldn’t speak?”

“Appeared he couldn’t. And he looked thin.” Brett nodded in agreement with his partner.

Jim paced the living room floor, clenching and unclenching his hand. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Batman was back but was struck mute?

_What’s going on, Batman?_

John slipped into the kitchen and hurried to the living room. “Commissioner, I just saw Batman!”

“What? You, too?” Joe asked.

“What do you mean, ‘you, too’?” John asked. 

“I saw him last night.”

“Did he speak to you?” John tossed his keys onto the dining room table.

“No, he couldn’t.”

Jim’s hand remained clenched. “Was he mute with you, too?” he asked John.

“Yeah.” John looked worried. “He didn’t look well, Commissioner.”

“What do you mean?” Jim felt ill.

“He was…gaunt, like he’d lost a lot of weight. And…”

“What?” Jim snapped.

“He looked like he was in pain.”

If Jim had been holding a pencil, he would have snapped it in two. “Why didn’t he stay?”

John shrugged. “I dunno. He just vanished into the fog.”

There was silence in the room for a long moment, then Jim said. “We’ll have to keep our eyes open for him.”

What no one said was that it was all very strange on the eve of All Hallows.

& & & & & &

Halloween dawned clear and cold, an undercurrent of excitement rolling through the city. The good people of Gotham sensed something important would happen tonight. Rumors were already spreading that the Batman had been sighted. Was it true, or just wishful thinking?

As dusk arrived and the stars began to come out, gatherings in the spirit of the holiday began to form in defiance of the laws against more than five people outside of a family congregating. Since it was deemed too dangerous for trick-or-treating, children dressed up in costumes and were treated to parties as their parents consumed secret stashes of alcohol in between the pumpkin muffins and candy corn. 

Bane had lifted the law for the night, amused at the celebration. Living literally with a time bomb, Gothamites insisted upon ‘their’ holiday. He still directed his men to patrol, however. 

In City Hall, he arranged for a feast for his men. He was supervising the set-up in the main hall usually reserved for trials when he saw Jonathan Crane skulking toward the foyer.

“And where are you going, Dr. Crane?”

The doctor smiled as he stopped. He certainly was a beauty. “It’s my night.” He held up his Scarecrow mask.

“Ah, yes.” Bane tapped the shoulder of one of his men and pointed at the long table. The man nodded and covered the roast beef with a silver cover. “Be careful, Doctor. We don’t want the good citizens of Gotham to run amuck with fear.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back by midnight.”

Crane dashed off while Bane chuckled. “I shall have your glass slipper waiting!”


	3. Bat Out Of Mists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween Night brings out the Ghosts.

_You haunt me  
With your pain._

  


**Dan Riordan**   
"Haunted"   
1999 C.E.

Jim thought of the irony of wearing a mask after teasing Batman about it for years. He adjusted his domino mask. Dressed as a mage in a black cloak, tunic, and boots, he fingered the gold-painted medallion that had come with the costume.

_At least I don’t have to wear a pointy hat._

He was still sticking to the alleys and shadows. Bane might have allowed masks tonight out of a sense of amusement, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t order his men to unmask anyone they found suspicious.

Jim knew how to work the alleys and streets of Gotham from his days as a foot patrolman pounding a beat with his partner Peter Foley. He was taking a risk by being out on the streets but he needed to clear his head. Months of being holed up in apartments, small houses, and even a tent in Wayne Park had given him the classic case of ‘cabin fever’. 

The name ‘Wayne’ made him think of Batman and the strange tales told by Joe and John. He still couldn’t figure out what was going on. If Batman was using his theatrics, why was he doing so with friendlies? Why not contact the Resistance?

_And me?_

Surely he recognized John! So why the mumbo-jumbo?

He heard voices around the corner and quickly ducked into a recessed doorway. A gang of Bane’s men strolled by, toting machine guns and laughing as they patrolled. They appeared loose and careless but Jim knew these men were hardened mercenaries. If anything happened their true natures would be revealed.

He waited until they disappeared around the next corner and slipped out of the alley and hurried to Jackson Street. He went around to the back of a very modest clapboard house with peeling gray paint, carved Jack O’Lanterns glowing on the front porch and a skeleton cut-out dangling from the ceiling. A black Witch cut-out was taped to the front door and framed by a string of tiny Jack O’Lantern lights.

Jim slipped through the back door into a modest kitchen that smelled of baked apples and pumpkin muffins. He loved the warm, cozy atmosphere, smiling at the black bat cut-outs hanging from the ceiling with orange-and-black streamers.

“I’ll get ‘em, honey!” The perky redhead dressed as a fairy princess came into the kitchen, stopping at the sight of Jim. She carried a star-shaped wand and a crown glittered on her head. She quickly closed to door to the living room. “Jim!”

“Hi, Addie.” 

They embraced and Addie asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m doing as well as everyone else.” Jim dropped his hands. “How are you and Dan doing?”

“Oh, you know how it is.” 

Addie O’Reilly was a handsome woman around Jim’s age. She had a good figure and piercing green eyes. She and Barbara were good friends.

“I know.”

She looked at him with sympathy. “I know it’s been rough on you.”

Jim shrugged. “Well, one good thing about Barbara taking the kids is that they don’t have to live under the Occupation.” 

Addie’s face grew shadowed. “I know.”

“Oh, damn, Addie, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Jim took her hands. “Your kids are still here.”

“And with Dan and me.” She smiled, tucking away her melancholy. “And now, let’s enjoy the party.”

Jim smiled. “Okay. I could use a party.”

“Don’t we all?” Addie donned her domino mask. “Nice costume, honey.”

“Thanks.” He grinned. “Pink is your color.”

She snorted. “Hardly. Green is better for redheads.”

“But pink is better for fairy princesses?”

“I think you’re right.”

The living room was decorated with black-and-orange streamers, Jack O’Lanterns, and -gauze fake cobwebs. Behind his mask, Jim mingled freely, but he knew everyone here.

Dan poured him another beer as _The Monster Mash_ played in the background. “What’s the deal?”

“We go to the docks. We think the truck might be taking that route tonight.”

“And if it isn't?”

“Then we see what we can steal from the warehouses.”

“Commissioner,” tutted Dan

Jim smirked. He drank the beer, looking out the window. “The night’s clear. We shouldn’t have a problem.”

“Yeah, but it’s a full moon. Tough to move around.”

“We stick to the shadows.”

“Bane’s men live in the shadows.”

“This is Gotham, Dan.” Jim took a sip of his beer. The pumpkin flavor actually worked with this one. “We’re used to the shadows.”

Addie flitted over to stand next to her magician husband. She tapped his shoulder with her wand. “Be careful, darling. Our magical mage here could put a stake through your heart.”

“Ha, ha.” 

“We’re also running low on beer.”

“Horrors! That’s the scariest thing yet,” Jim teased.

Dan showed his fangs and went to the kitchen to get more beer.

“This is so weird,” Addie said.

”What, a vampire for a husband?”

“Ha, ha.” She whacked him lightly in the stomach with her wand. “I’m talking about throwing a party as if we aren’t going to blow up to kingdom come someday.”

“Oh, now Your Highness, have faith.”

“Ah, but I could just wave this wand and see the stars dance.”

Jim smiled as he looked out the window again. The stars were exceptionally bright and the moonlight illuminated the street. He would have preferred a moonless night but so be it. 

It was a beautiful night and one that reminded him of Batman. The night always made him think of the Bat and how it always felt so right. His longing became painful.

“Where’s John?” Addie asked.

“Oh, he’s around.” Thinking of John made him remember the strange apparitions that his men had seen.

Addie looked out the window. “Beautiful night.”

“Yes, it is.”

A laughing green-clad Robin Hood walked by with his arm slung around a dancing girl’s shoulders. The next song that played on the old-fashioned stereo was _Witchy Woman._

_Batman…Bruce?…it’s going to be all right._

Jim gazed at the shining moon.

& & & & & &

Jim left the party an hour later. He was going to meet his men on the docks, and maybe return to the party after that. It would make a good cover. He kept his eyes open, affecting a carefree gait as he headed to the docks.

The clearness of the night began to disappear as fog began to roll in from the ocean. Jim smiled slightly. Perfect for Halloween, and good for their work tonight.

As he approached the docks, the fog grew thicker. He paused as he thought he heard…chains? Jim turned quickly but saw nothing.

_Must be my imagination. Easy to get spooked, especially this night._

He could see the moon through a break in the fog and thought he saw something fly across it. He rubbed his eyes.

_Man, get hold of yourself, Gordon. When you start seeing Witches fly across the face of the moon or wishing to see Bats flying over Gotham…_

He heard the chains rattle again. His hand slid over to the gun he carried concealed in his cloak. One could not be too careful in Gotham, Occupation or not.

Suddenly a shadowy figure appeared in the fog. Jim’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest as he saw the outlines of the Bat. 

“Batman?” The shadow remained just out of reach as the fog drifted past, wispy and mysterious. Jim’s heart ached. “Batman, talk to me.”

The Batman emerged from the fog, Jim nearly gasping as he saw how gaunt he appeared. Batman’s mouth moved but no sound came out. His eyes were shadowed and Jim stepped forward.

“It’s all right, Batman. Now that you’re back we can rid Gotham of Bane. I knew you would come back to Gotham…and me.”

The silent Bat never unnerved him but Jim wished that he would speak. He wondered if he should try again when Batman suddenly pushed back his cowl.

Jim wasn’t shocked that it was Bruce’s face revealed. He had suspected the Bat’s real identity for years.

What shocked him was how much pain glazed those amber eyes, Bruce’s face gaunt and hollow. Suffering was written in the planes of his face, not even a scraggly mustache and beard hiding how taut his skin was pulled over his bones.

“Bruce?” Jim whispered as Bruce reached his hand out, pleading for…what? Rescue? Remembrance? Salvation?

Bruce began to fade, breaking apart as he dissipated on the fog.

“Bruce!”

Jim reached out to grab the man he loved but it was like trying to catch smoke, wisps slipping through his fingers.

Bruce was gone.

Jim stared into the fog, a maelstrom of emotions roiling in his stomach.

“Commissioner!” John jogged up, a coat covering up most of his green outfit. His archer’s cap was set jauntily on his head, complete with a yellow feather. “Everything okay?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

_Bruce!_

John looked at him with concern from behind his domino mask. “What happened?”

For a moment, Jim didn’t answer, then he said, “Just a will-o-the-wisp.”

John was puzzled and shifted his green pixie boots. He put a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “We’d better get to the docks.”

Jim nodded, his heart aching as he walked beside John, their steps echoing in the fog.

_Oh, Bruce._

Still shaken up, Jim tried to concentrate on tonight’s task when a scream echoed through the fog. He and John broke into a run and followed the screams but ended up no closer than when they’d started.

“It’s the fog. Sounds bounce around and you get confused,” Jim said.

“We’ve got to find where those screams are coming from,” John said tensely.

The clip-clop of a horse’s hooves sounded as a horrific figure rode up, Jim’s heart pounding. The raggedy clothing and monstrous mask sent a shiver down Jim’s spine. The figure vanished.

“Scarecrow!” Jim grabbed John’s arm. “If he’s on the prowl, there’s trouble.”

They went in the direction Scarecrow had gone and found a wild scene as a gang of costumed revelers attacked each other as Scarecrow laughed manically.

Suddenly a rush of cold air and dark wings flashed by and knocked Scarecrow off his horse. The terrified citizens ran off.

“What…?” John cried.

The dark apparition flew off into the fog.

“Was that…?”

Jim smiled. “Yes.”

Somehow, someway, he was sure that Bruce would come home.


End file.
